


Warm Hands, Cold Hearts

by Lightning_Zombie



Series: Zombie Apocalypse MCYT [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Big mood tbh, Crying, Cuddling, Holding Hands, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Swearing, They’re both bad at feelings, no one actually gets hurt don’t worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 00:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30131154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightning_Zombie/pseuds/Lightning_Zombie
Summary: “This place is picked clean. There’s no point.” Dream insists, ever the realist.“One more day? I want-“ George pauses, because he has no idea what he wants. His old life gone, his friends all dead, Orlando burned to ashes. “I want a chance to grieve.”Dream sighs. He takes his hand from George’s and wraps his arm around him instead. Warm, familiar, comforting. “Sapnap would want us to keep going.””He’d want you to stop being such a fucking prick.” George shrugs Dream off, then regrets it immediately as he grows cold again.——George is cold. Dream is warm. Somehow, this doesn’t go as well as they’d like it to.///Rated Teen for Implied Suicide Attempt and Swearing.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Zombie Apocalypse MCYT [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156715
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Warm Hands, Cold Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote dnf gimme clout /j
> 
> OKAY BUT SERIOUSLY! I don’t usually write ships, but then this came to be at two in the morning like visions from an angry god, so now it’s all y’all’s problem too. It’s currently 3am and I’m posting this now because I want to.
> 
> Oh, also, I have nothing against Kentucky I just threw a dart at a map of the United States and used that for the joke. 
> 
> Trigger warnings in the tags! Read those before reading the fic :)
> 
> EDIT: I fucking tagged this wrong I'm so sorry it's fixed now I'm so stupid lmao
> 
> ///
> 
> This is a work of fiction about my interpretation of the persona's of CC's, not the CC's themselves. Do not repost my fics to other sites. Do not send my fics to CC's. If you're a CC, in the nicest way possible, go away. This is for the fans.

George blows on his hands, trying to warm up the icicles that were once his fingers. His legs dangle over the edge of the flat roof as the sun continues its ascent into the sky, refusing to warm the earth or melt the snow. He curses himself for leaving his gloves behind in his university dorm, then remembers it was mid summer when the apocalypse hit and he had no reason to go back for them.

Until now, sitting on this rooftop in a small abandoned town, where the late autumn wind bites at his exposed hands. He'd do anything to go somewhere warm.

"I think North would be best." Dream continues, and George realises he hasn't been listening for several minutes. They've been trying to figure out where to go for weeks now, but every single glimmer of hope is dashed as soon as they arrive. Overrun, vacant, or never existing in the first place.

"North's cold." George looks over at Dream, briefly admiring the way his dark-blond hair glows in the rising sunlight. His tired green eyes meet George's, although his smile contradicts them. George seethes. Dream has an infuriating habit of staying just a little bit too positive even when everything goes to shit.

"Down South is a big city, it'll be full of infected. East is the ocean which is no good to us, and West is _Kentucky_." Dream makes a face to try and entertain George, but the older man just sighs in frustration. "Okay, besides _everything_ that's going on, what's wrong?"

George shrugs and rubs his hands together. He genuinely has no idea why he's so grumpy besides being cold and hungry. But they've been cold and hungry for months and George has never felt so... down? Despite everything they've been through, this is the first time he's felt genuinely sad in a long time. Sadness is different to anger, to despair, to hurt and rage and the need to survive. Sad sits in your chest, weighing you down. There's no outlet, only the hope for something else to come along and replace it for a while. Maybe it's because they've finally stopped for a second, it's all hit him at once. Everything that's happened over the past couple of months.

Dream places his hands over George's. Warmth quickly spreads through his skin, but doesn't quite reach his bones. "Better?"

"A little." George breathes. He curls his fingers up, clinging to his best friend. This isn't unusual for them; tugging each other away from herds, through alleyways, holding on to each other at night as the Dead scratch at their walls. This is different, though, softer, less out of necessity and more out of something George refuses to name.

"So, how's North sound?" Dream asks, his voice irritatingly cheery.

"Fucking awful. Look, can we just... stay here for a bit? Scavenge some food, maybe get some medical supplies." George squeezes Dream's hand and does his best please-listen-to-me-for-once eyes. He's so tired of always moving on at Dream's insistence. Exhaustion seeps into every fibre of his being, threatening to knock him out but never quite letting it happen. George hasn't slept in weeks, even with his back pressed against Dream's chest every night, keeping him safe and warm.

"This place is picked clean. There's no point sticking around." Dream insists, ever the realist.

"One more day? I want-" George pauses, because he has no idea what he wants. His old life gone, his friends all dead, Orlando burned to ashes, he has nothing but Dream. "I want a chance to deal with... what's happened."

Dream sighs. He takes his hand from George's and wraps his arm around him instead. Warm, familiar, comforting. "Sapnap would want us to keep going."

"He'd want you to stop being such a fucking prick." George shrugs Dream off, then regrets it immediately as he grows cold again.

"George-"

"No." George shakes his head, and suddenly tears stream down his face as sobs wrack his body. He grips the edge of the roof, pushing his hands into the concrete beneath him and moving forward slightly, dangling further off the edge. An Infected looks up in vague interest as George shouts. "No, I don't want to, I don't want to do anything, I want this all to stop."

Dream grabs George around the waist and pulls him away from the roof’s edge. George collapses against him, enveloped in warmth but shaking violently anyway.

"No no no, don't do that, don't do that. It's okay, I've got you." Dream whispers into George's hair.

George continues crying, clinging to the arms that encircle his waist, keeping him grounded. They rock back and forth slightly, Dream humming softly into George's ear. It's soothing, frustratingly so. George wants nothing more than to stay angry forever. Angry means he isn't sad.

Eventually, George calms down enough to stop sobbing, but is still a shivering wreck in Dream's arms. Dream strokes George's hair, looking out over the snow covered town.

"You remember the last time it snowed?" Dream asks. George doesn't respond. "You were so- you didn't even care, cause you grew up with it, but me and Sapnap got to hyped up we were basically losing our minds. There wasn't even half an inch on the ground, but we went outside and made a snowman anyway.”

"You two were so cold." George whispers, voice hoarse. "I was stood there in a hoodie and jeans while you two stole all my scarfs."

Dream chuckles, the vibrations of it running into George's back. "Did Sapnap ever return that black and white scarf?"

"He was wearing it when he died."

"Oh."

They both go silent, only the wind whipping across the roof to fill the void. The sun continues its ascent unhindered, uncaring. Dream takes a water bottle from his bag and gives it to George, who drinks gratefully. Crying always drains him of everything he has left. It's a shame they have very little food to keep them going.

"Two days." Dream runs his hand over George's back, tracing circles across his spine.

"Huh?" George asks, wiping his face.

"We'll stick around for two days. Look for supplies, maybe... maybe have a memorial or something, for Sapnap. And everyone else." Dream squeezes George's hands. "I'll find you some gloves."

"That sounds good." George agrees, leaning back into Dream's chest. He closes his eyes for a second, relishing in the warmth before getting up.

Dream hops up besides him and throws his bag over his shoulder. "We're gonna be okay, y'know."

"Promise?" George asks, taking Dream's hand again.

"From the bottom of my heart." Dream smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> If people liked this maybe I will write more, and if they hate it I will never show my face in the dnf tag again. 
> 
> I might re edit this again in the morning when I’m more conscious. Lmk if there’s any glaring errors that need fixing!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
